The Crossroad
by bugaboo107
Summary: A small brawl between Morelli and Ranger occurs at Pinos. Steph is caught in the crossfire, her emotions boil over, what will happen? Babe, cupcake, or neither?
1. Chapter 1

**My first fic in the world of Stephanie Plum. I don't own anything.**

**Enjoy and please comment!**

**I won't tell you if it is a Babe or Cupcake fic, or maybe neither… you will just have to read to find out…**

**One-shot (unless you can me persuade otherwise…)**

**§§§**

**The Crossroad**

I, Stephanie Plum persuaded Ranger, the Almighty, to have pizza with me at Pinos tonight. Okay, so I promised him _a little something_ afterwards, but hey, I still got him to have an 18-inch pizza; a great, greasy, extra-cheesy pie with the works—olives, pepperoni, green bell peppers, sausages, and mushrooms.

How romantic.

Not that I was thinking that Ranger would ever be a romantic, but hey, a girl can dream, can't she?

We also loaded up on breadsticks and marinara sauce (my favorite), plus a dozen spicy Buffalo wings. My brain blurred and my mouth watered when the food arrived at our table. _Yum_, my mind screamed. I'm not sure, but I think I heard Ranger laugh across from me. He probably did, because he was in the company of a ravenous, impulsive woman who had run six miles nonstop, in the rain, to be exact. It was the weekend and we did our usual morning jog, but this time, we saw a high-bail FTA at the corner of the park, and we chased him.

I managed to keep up with Ranger for a few miles or so until I felt my knee buckled beneath me. Ranger stopped and dragged me to my feet, but I couldn't hold myself up, so he told me to hop on his back.

"Are you sure? The FTA is going to get away. Plus, I'm pretty heavy."

"Babe, just do it. I care more about your physically safety than an FTA."

"If you say so," but in my mind I was thinking, _how sweet, Ranger just showed his other side. Just a flicker though. I would love to see more._

I braced myself as I _hopped_ on, hoping that he could hold me up, and _not _surprisingly, he did. He gave me a piggyback ride all the way back to my apartment. I didn't even care that his hands were touching my ass. My mind was wandering. There I was, on top of the hottest guy in the world. Me, the raggedy maiden sweating ceaselessly and him, the stalwart, hot Prince. I didn't even notice the billowing clouds above and the rain pitter-patter on the cement sidewalk. Early spring in Trenton, what else did you expect?

I only noticed when we arrived at my apartment and I hopped off. I was feeling much better, but still dizzy and nauseous.

"Babe, you're all wet," Ranger said, grinning.

I looked down at myself and noticed that my stretchy white tank top was soaked (sweat or rain, I didn't know) and clamped against my damp skin. No wonder Ranger was looking at me like I was breakfast, _and lunch_. This was just another thing to add to my list of I-don't-cares. I was hot, tired, and hungry. I didn't have breakfast, for heaven's sake. I wasn't going to waste anymore of my energy trying to hide my bra. _The traces along the edges were becoming quite apparent, and my nipples were straining_. Anyways, Ranger had seen me naked plenty of times… I think. He was Batman wasn't he? Sneaking into my apartment whenever he wanted to see me drooling in my sleep, curled up in the fetal position, snoring.

When I walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge, his eyes followed me.

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

I inspected myself and noticed that my pink _PINK®_ sweatpants from Victoria's Secret (Lula bought them for me for Christmas—"Girl, you have booty, get some pants that show it off.") had shifted down and my green bikinis were showing. I hastily lifted it up and continued my business, hearing Ranger's snort in the background.

"Want a bottle of H2O?"

"Sure."

I handed a cool bottle over to him and we sat down on the stools and drank silently.

So, that was my morning, _and afternoon_. The two of us went out to get some buttery scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, and apple juice (hey, I got the fruit in) at Cluck-in-a-Bucket (actually he ate an _organic_ blueberry muffin and water from the bakery next door, but was kind enough to accompany me in my splurge) for brunch. Ranger dropped me off at home, and I did my little finger-wave before closing the door. I went to sleep afterwards, and Ranger left to do business. He promised to pick me up for dinner, _my choice._ _Boy, oh boy, all the possibilities_. Fast food, or an elegant meal… at Pinos (I am a very disillusioned girl when it comes to fancy-shmancy restaurants… something bad always happens, so I stick to Pinos—fresh and tasty).

I fell asleep dreaming of all the places I could go to. I was on cloud nine.

§§§

I woke up at six in the late afternoon, my unruly hair plastered to the side of my face, and my limbs stiff from the morning's exercise. _I sure slept for a long time._

I lifted myself from the bed and walked into the bathroom. Ugh. I was a mess. As usual. I needed much taming. I did the makeup thing and got dressed in a pair of dark-indigo skinny jeans and an oversized cozy black V-neck sweater. I gave myself an once-over and left. I whipped up my cell phone of the kitchen counter and buzzed Ranger.

He picked up on the third ring, "Yo."

"Yo yourself. When are we meeting?"

"I'll pick you up in half-an-hour. Have you decided where we're eating at, babe?"

"Yep."

Click off. So much for a conversation.

I moved over to the couch and watched some news until Ranger came.

_Which brings us to now_.

§§§

We were watching the basketball game on the big-plasma screen TV that Pinos had just invested in. Great investment, by the way, top-of-the-line. We ate in silence, listening to the soft drizzle of rain hit the thin roofing. The sound was calming. I was stunned to see Ranger acting like a normal guy. He was wearing jeans (black, or course), and a tight-fitting black sweater. We were a match—black all over.

Batman and Batgirl.

I was awe-stricken by the way his jaw moved. His jaw was so gorgeous that I just wanted to go up to him and lick it. _His masticating was attractive?_ I was getting slightly light-headed, but it wasn't my fault that I was sitting across from_ him_. Okay, so I was madly attracted to Ranger. Even after the couple of years I've known him, he still knows how to make a girl blush, all over.

In the middle of our dinner, Ranger asked, "Are you okay, Steph?"

_Oh yeah, great. If you consider that I'm killing of brain cells by just staring at you, and sweating underneath this cashmere. _Instead, I gave a bobble of the head and smiled.

After a while of seeing the Lakers thump the Nets, Ranger turned to me. He stared at me like I was some new species of tree frogs from Borneo and I felt self-conscious.

I joked, "Oh my golly, do I have anything on my face, Victor Frankenstein?" as I frantically put my hands to my face and started feeling around for bumps.

I earned myself a 200-watt smile. Teeth and all. Sexy as hell. I smiled back, and for a second we shared a _normal_ romantic moment. Before…

§§§

"Stephanie, what are you doing here? With him?" **_he_** spat.

I recognized that voice anywhere.

Morelli.

He didn't look too good. After I started working at RangeMan a year ago, he had changed. _Drastically_. He was sporting a scraggly beard (scary image) and his hair was a mess—the once-upon-a-time Brad Pitt look. His hair was fingered through it a couple _hundred_ times. He looked homeless, but since that was the latest trend, he fit in quite well. I could smell the strong stench of alcohol, and it wasn't even midnight.

"We're having pizza. Care to join us?"

It was more of an empty offer; a can't-you-see-we're-busy look. I didn't really want him sitting down with us to eat. Morelli and Ranger had been rivals since the first time they saw each other. With Morelli drunk, it would not be a happy occasion. I knew Morelli could have a couple beers and be fine, but tonight, he was _way_ over his limit.

I'd never seen him like this before.

Scary.

"Okay, _babe_, thanks for the offer," he mocked, pulling up a seat next to me.

I looked over to Ranger, and could almost see the steam coming out of his ears, his eyes turned pure black, dark as coal. His hands were in his lap, but I knew they would be clenched tightly and white-knuckled. I had noticed on many occasions this trait of his.

"So, how are you two lovebirds doing? Have you gotten Steph into the sack yet? How was it? Was it good enough for you?"

"Morelli!" I hissed, "What is up with you?"

I got no response, only heavy munching on a slice of pizza. I turned to look at Ranger to plead with him to understand Morelli; then out of nowhere Joe planted a great big sloppy kiss on my cheek. He then gave one of his cocky, self-assured expressions at Ranger. Morelli was really trying hard to tick off Ranger. _He loathed him._

I could tell Ranger was keeping in his anger, _for my sake_. I moved my seat over to Ranger and grasped his large hands in mine. I said through clenched-teeth, "Don't-let-him-anger-you. He is really drunk tonight. I'm sorry for his bad behavior."

Gosh, I was really starting to sound like a mother of five-year old twins that couldn't keep to themselves in school.

"Babe," Ranger moaned in my eye, before his mouth brushed just below my earlobe. His mouth was soft and gentle and the caress lingered. I could feel my temperature sky-rocket at the secret action. I was also starting to sweat in strange places.

Morelli noticed the small action and immediately rose to his feet.

"You think you can just use Stephanie for you own sexual benefit by doing _that_ to her, but you have another thing coming. I've been with Stephanie for as long as I can remember and I know more about her you ever will. She is mine, and will always be MINE! Just because you can get every woman in town in bed with you with your mysterious charm doesn't mean that you can trick Stephanie!"

Morelli's hands were moving wildly, making every single hand-gesture imagined without actually knowing that he did it. It was a sight to see if I wasn't at crossroads with myself. Maybe I was just Ranger's sexual toy. His little plaything.

Maybe he had plenty of girls who looked up to him as if he was a badass superhero.

Ranger stood up and said, "Stop Morelli, you are way out of line. I think you've had enough to drink tonight. Why don't you just go home?"

"_Why don't you just go home_? No. I love Stephanie more than you ever will. I care for her more than any man in the world. And she knows that."

"Don't you Steph?"

Oh great. I was brought into the conversation.

"Uh, I agree with Ranger, you've drank too much tonight. Why don't I drive you home?"

"Answer the question, cupcake."

Morelli started moving over to me, and I wasn't so sure what he had in mind. He didn't look too happy. Morelli's hand was raised as his face softened. I didn't know what he planned to do next, probably a friendly touch on the cheek or a soft caress like he usually did to erase all the bad tension, but he didn't get a chance to.

"Cupcake—I want you to know--"

Ranger stepped in front of me and said emotionlessly, firmly, "Morelli, I think you'd better head home, I'll call one of my men to take you, if you'd like."

"No, I will not submit to the almighty God and his disciples," folding his arms across his chest, brows furrowed, but with a slightly amused look.

"Let's go Steph. You're coming home with me."

He waited for my response, and when I didn't respond, he said, "You know, maybe you are Ranger's pretty little doll. He may find you useful now, but he'll probably get you pregnant and leave you in the dust. Just like he's done before."

I felt really hurt by this comment, but I vowed to stay placid. _Morelli's drunk_, I kept saying to myself.

Ranger stepped toward Morelli and attempted to steer him out the door, but Joe stayed grounded.

"I'm not leaving," Morelli declared, and I thought, _stubborn mule_. Just do it, and let it all be over with.

Morelli raised a fist and jabbed Ranger in the stomach. Ranger didn't flinch or anything and stared directly into Morelli's eyes. Morelli threw another punch, and Ranger still stood there immobilized. Knowing his little traits and all, I saw a slight flicker of pain, a twitch in his eye, but nothing more.

Now is the time.

I stepped into the ring.

"Please Morelli, just go home," I implored with my puppy face, "Please."

Now the whole bar was staring at the three of us. No more clinking of glasses. Watching for the next move.

Morelli lifted his fist again to sock Ranger, but this time, he hit me. _Side effect of seeing double vision during a hangover_. Smack dab square in the shoulder. The pain stung. No more wearing tank tops for a while.

He instantly froze, realizing his terrible wrongdoing. He had never hit me before. Never in his life had he touched a girl that way.

His face turned chalk-white, all the blood drained from his rosy cheeks. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming trunk—stunned and immobile.

I was caught in the crossfire.

"I'm so, so sorry, Steph. I didn't mean to do that. Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

Morelli tried to kneel down to comfort me, but Ranger pushed him again. Ranger crouched on his hind legs and whispered, "Are you okay, babe?"

I rose to my feet, ignoring his hand, the tears stinging my eyes. My vision was blurred but I continued on steady legs.

I jabbed an angry finger at Morelli and yelled, "You cocky, inebriated, S.O.B, what is your problem? How much alcohol did you have? You never have this much! What happened? I could tell your mother right now! Your Grandma Bella wouldn't be too ecstatic either. I care about you more than you'd ever know! You come into Pinos and act as if you own the place, and I am your idiot daughter who just had sex with some smashed, old homeless guy with AIDS and is now pregnant! Well, I'm not, and I didn't. I am a grown woman who can make decisions for herself. I don't need a conceited cop to tell me otherwise. And don't say that I am just some 'plaything' to Ranger; for your information, you've had more 'partners' than anyone in Trenton, anyone in New Jersey for goodness sake! You think that you are women's gift, that you can get any girl in the world with your self-assured, I'm-so-sexy attitude so that you can f—k her! Well, let me tell you what, it isn't working! You are so aggravating! You are so, uuuggggghhhhhh!!!"

I could feel Ranger smiling behind me, what he didn't know what was coming. What Morelli said earlier impacted me deeply.

"As for you, the invincible, supreme Ricardo Carlos Manoso, you act like you are _above_ everyone else, with your fancy black cars, your adamant gang of men, and your million-dollar houses. Every time I think I'm getting closer to you, getting to understand the 'man-behind-the-mask', you up and leave. You never tell me where you're going and expect me to wait for you and understand that is was another 'meeting', a if-I-told-you-I'd-have-to-kill-you mission. Well, I can't stand that. I am not some genius robo-woman. I need to know these things; I can't be left in the dust. Then you show up in my bedroom staring at me. You are so impossible to understand! Am I just another carved-notch in your bedpost! Just some stupid female that couldn't resist your indescribable charm? Plus, what is it with you and the salads! Salads are stupid. Why can't you eat a hamburger, a peanut butter-and-olive sandwich, a cookie! Where is the stupid 'real' Bat cave? Are you hiding dozens of beautiful exotic girls there? Arrghhh!"

Okay, so that last sentence was a bit out of line.

"You two both bother me so much, but I can't help loving the both you. I am so confused and frustrated. My life revolves around destruction and chaos. One of you wants total submission from me- for me to become a housewife, and the other can't do relationships! What is wrong with me!!! There is no longer a _middle ground_, just stop it. It's really starting to bother me. I can't deal with the cat-and-mouse, push-and-pull game. I am not just some subservient toy you guys can play with! One that allows you to drag me back and forth! You guys like crossfire? I can't stand it; I'm leaving Trenton tomorrow, better yet, tonight! You guys are always bickering in this stupid rivalry as if I'm a trophy that you can just hang in your closet! Well, I'm a human too, you know!!"

I took one last look at the stunned, agape men in my life. There mouths were open and their eyes wide. Ranger was the first to soften and move toward me, but **it was too late**.

§§§

I stormed out of the warm bar/restaurant and into the chilly night air. I checked my watch, it was eight-thirty. I fumed angrily down the street, ignoring the drizzle. I didn't have my car, so I was going to have to walk a few blocks back to my apartment. I trudged through on the wet sidewalk in my grey rubber Wellington boots and passed a few worms, careful to not step on any. Sorry, even when I was angry, I could let it out on innocent organisms. _Especially ones who helped earth_. Before I turned the corner, I thought I heard a soft patter of feet behind me, and someone call out "I'm sorry", but when I spun around, there was nothing. Stupid imagination. It had been tricking me since the day I jumped off the roof of my parents' house, thinking I was Wonder Woman. Look where that landed me. In a heap of thorny rose bushes. Grandma Mazur took hours of patience to remove those thorns and sooth me with some lotion and ice cream.

The streets were lonesome except for the occasional car.

I thought over my spiel, and thought that the last line was pretty corny, but that I definitely made my point—I was leaving.

I guess I had finally boiled over.

It had been on my mind for some time now, so it felt good to be leaving. Going out into the new world that had much exploring to do. Probably New York City. I had a few college friends there-- Lawyers, doctors. There was tons of action and crime in the Big Apple. It would be easy to find a job. No, better yet, **Point Pleasant**. The beautiful Jersey shore, great nightlife, fishing, restaurants, and best of all peace and solitude.

I would wake up every morning the ebb and flow of the salty sea water, to walk along to the hazy beach, my feet grappled by the oozing sand; to find what the tides had brought up, _one of the things I've always wanted to do,_ but not in Trenton. To find seashells, sand crabs, and maybe even an opaque bottle with a letter inside. One that would bring me to an exotic island to meet the man of my dreams.

Okay, so I'm an **idealistic romantic**.

I can't help that I've watched tons of chic flicks.

I would miss my parents, Valerie, Kloughn, the kids, my parents, Grandma Mazur, Rex, Lula, Connie, Mary Lou, Carl and some of the other officers, the Merry Men, Bob the dog, Sally, and maybe even Vinnie, _a bit_. _Okay, scratch the last one_. It was going to be a sad farewell, but for the best. Maybe a letter or an e-mail to each of them tomorrow morning. Something simple that wouldn't draw too much attention to the neighborhood.

The two men in my life would no longer be burdened with me. They would no longer get into physical fights (and profanity-filled verbal debates) with each other and outside people over their "girlfriend's" car-burnings, jumping in trash-cans rendezvous, not-too-stealthy espionage, death threats, awkward hairstyles, and menacing stalkers.

They would no longer be burdened by constant rescue missions. _A girl chained to her tub_.

They would be able to settle down with a nice wife, have a couple kids, and live in a safe environment, free of death threats and packages with cut-off body parts.

They would be free to continue their jobs without distractions.

They would be able to live, an ordinary life (or as ordinary as their lives got).

I would be out of it.

I could feel tears well up in my eyes, but I promised myself I wouldn't let them out. Or at least until I got home. I didn't want any neighbors spying out their living room windows and starting a gossip-fest of their favorite topic: Stephanie Plum. It was probably already like bacteria proliferation. Fast and unstoppable. I would probably get a phone call from my mom in a matter of minutes.

I could already hear the gossip: _Is she pregnant? Did she break up with that kind, young gentleman, Joseph Morelli? Oh, I should call my daughter, boy will she be happy that he's back on the market? Was it that dark-skinned hottie that has her nerves in a jumble? Did she get threatened by a maniac again? How many times has that happened already? Did her car explode again?_

I turned off my cell-phone clipped to my knee-high socks (I had no where else to put it so that it would be inconspicuous… maybe I did on my jeans, but I thought that the socks were cooler… I was being _innovative_.)

Unlike the burg. The burg was a **bore**.

Same old, same old.

I needed change. I needed to move somewhere was there was less action. More relaxation.

I finally stumbled to the apartment complex, up the creaky elevator, down the old hallway to my small apartment.

**At least it was mine. No one else owned it but me. **

I locked the front door, went to my room, stripped off my wet clothing for some soft, worn, penguin-patterned PJs, and plunged into my bed and cried. I curled up in the fetal position and covered my face with my hands.

I hadn't felt this down for ages.

§§§

It wasn't about losing the two wonderful men in my life. It was about me bringing them on a wild-goose chase, only to tell them that I was too stupid to give them both up, and that I was the one who needed to leave.

I cried my heart out until my cheeks were red and puffy, until by eyes were so swollen that they were almost shut. I didn't even turn on the bathroom light when I went into the bathroom to relieve myself because I knew it was going to be a horrendous sight- bloated, blotchy cheeks, frizzy hair sticking-on-end, pale skin, a runny nose, and ruined mascara.

At that point in time, I hated myself.

For everything.

Joe.

Ranger.

Having a horrible, unstable job.

Having no money.

No car.

Ruining my parents dream of me settling down. Two kids. A nice four-bedroom house. A nice paying, secure job with benefits. And most of all a loving relationship.

I was a mess, and that was why I was leaving. _For good_.

I put my act together and walked to the computer on the makeshift table (a big, brown moving box) in the living room. I flipped on the small lamp and turned the computer on.

I logged on and went on-line in search of an apartment. A rental, of course.

_I was really leaving_, _I was choosing the right turn at the crossroad in my life_, I kept thinking to myself.

Everything was more than by budget. The cheapest housing was a $700 _a week_, and _that_ was expensive. So what, I would pool in all my money and work from there. Okay, okay, a cheap dumpy motel first.

Okay, time to start packing.

I turned off my computer.

I took out my dusty old suitcase from the closet next to the front door, _from my college days_. I blew the dust off, coughing and sputtering in the process. I lugged it to my bedroom and unzipped it. I few small spiders crawled out and I let out a quiet, "eww" before I started packing.

I opened my bureau, took out my panties and bras; then I moved to my other clothing—sweaters, shirts, pants, jeans, jackets, swimsuits (I'd be doing a lot of that in Point Pleasant).

As I flipped through my closet, I came upon the box.

It was a collection of photographs of me and my favorite males in the world—Joe and Ranger, and memorabilia of our time spent together, separately of course. Plane tickets, dinner receipts, small knick-knacks, and most precious of all, a key to one of Ranger's bat-caves. I reminisced of the times I spent hidden in that wonderful cavern. I felt like a modern-day Goldilocks, _minus the golden ringlets_.

A single tear floated down my blotchy check as I put the key to my pounding heart. _If only I could access Ranger's heart as easily as I had his house. _

I turned off my night lamp, and I lay back against the headboard and inhaled deeply. Dreaming of myself living in a cozy beachfront studio, with Rex.

Even if I would miss _them_ a lot.

More than anything in my life.

Love was an evil thing, wasn't it?

§§§

At eleven, I woke up, startled, buried in my comfortable, drenched in cold sweat. My brain was humming and slightly disoriented as I tried to focus my vision in the darkness, adjusting to the soft moonlight cast through the blinds.

I felt a presence in the room, a slight movement of the feet. I looked to my right, and my eyes widened to the size of quarters.

_**To be continued… if I have enough readers and reviewers.**_

_**So…REVIEW!**_

…_**C**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I don't own anything. **_

**I have been convinced to write another chapter. This is for all my fantastic readers. Thanks. **

**§§§**

**The Crossroad**

_At eleven, I woke up, startled, buried in my comfortable bed, drenched in cold sweat. My brain was humming and slightly disoriented as I tried to focus my vision in the darkness, adjusting to the soft moonlight cast through the blinds._

_I felt a presence in the room, a slight movement of the feet. I looked to my right, and my eyes widened to the size of quarters._

**Chapter 2**

**§§§**

Quickly, however, my eyes narrowed as I recognized the shape of someone familiar.

Joseph Morelli, with his hands on his hips.

I was slightly shocked that he would come back after that little _rendezvous_ at Pino's. Apparently he knew me well enough to know that I didn't hold _hate _or_ anger_ for long. But this time it was different. All this pent-up emotion had spurted forth without notice. Even I didn't know I was going to explode like that, raising fire and brimstone under the roof of a quaint little bar.

I turned on my night-lamp, and moved to an upright sitting position, leaning on the headboard. I crossed my arms and gave him my best Ranger blank-face look, hoping to pull it off as well as the man-in-black. I raised one eyebrow and pouted my lips slightly.

Morelli strode over to my bed and sat down at the edge. He ran his long fingers through his already tousled hair and let out a deep breath. His sullen eyes were withdrawn. Cold. Bloodshot. Stress lines around them and dark circles below them. If I didn't know better, I would have thought someone punched him in the eye or something, because they were so discolored and remote. I couldn't see any emotion or anything in them. I looked at my hands, afraid that lasers would jet forward and hit me square between the eyes. I peered at him from behind the curtain of hair that fanned in front of my face. Morelli looked older.

I hadn't paid much attention for the past year or so, but now looking at my once-upon-a-time lover, he looked very lost. Something about this touched something in my heart, but I didn't let it affect me.

"Stephanie, the door was open. Anyways, I have something to tell—"

"Listen Morelli, let me say something first."

He nodded imperceptibly. I didn't even look up, because I knew he would listen.

"I love you very much. I love Ranger very much too. I can't expect you to understand the way I love you. I know you love me too, Joe, but I can't fulfill what you what me to become. I have to do something for myself before I can share my life with anyone. Plus, I am a wreck on legs, I can't expect you to understand that this is the way my life will be—stalkers, killers, rapists, gangsters, shop-lifters, wife-beaters, drug-lords, druggies, and parolees _(great way to categorize the bad guys, eh?) _will always be chasing me, waiting behind every corner, every door. You can't always protect me. I have to sort my life out on my own, okay? I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I don't know when I'll be back," I whispered softly, yet very steady and firm.

I thought to myself, maybe not for a long time would I be returning.

"Cupcake, I love you too. I'm sorry."

I knew what he was referring to—the punch, his inebriated state, the vulgar comments, but I didn't say anything more.

"Thank you for the apology, but it won't change anything."

As much as I wanted to snuggle up to one of the men I loved and listen to his steady heartbeat in my ear, lulling me to sleep, I knew I couldn't keep being the widow spider drawing the victim into the web of deception. I knew I could never be the perfect woman, or be the permanence that he was looking for. I knew I needed to let him go. To let him fly as I once wanted to. Even if he was going to be a stubborn mule in the process, I needed to push him away. Before my eyes started leaking, I slipped into the warm comforter and turned by back against him.

I could feel his eyes boring into by back, but he didn't say anything more.

I muttered, "I'm _more_ sorry. For everything," but I doubted that he heard. After ten, tension-filled minutes of, he came over to my side and turned off the lamp. His thumb ran across my jaw, down my neck to the area where he had struck me. I involuntarily flinched. His eyes flickered something wounded from what I saw from the moonlight's cast, but just like that, he was gone. Just like that. He didn't even put up a fight. No discourse. No "see you tomorrow, cupcake".

Maybe a part of me wanted him to.

Maybe a part of me wanted to pretend that nothing happened tonight.

But he didn't.

I didn't.

Afterwards, I let the tears cascade down my cheeks onto the pillow and let myself shudder to the sobs that racked my body. Just as I started to cry, I heard a crackle of thunder outside, and as if on cue, the rain started falling.

The gentle cadence of the rainfall soothed me to sleep before I could overwhelm myself in hopelessness and pain.

**§§§**

At seven in the morning, I woke up to loud chirping of the birds—black, beady-eyed crows, to be exact. I may live in the commercial Burg, but there is still tons of wildlife around—especially birds. Crows particularly love to hang-out on my deck for a nice view of the parking lot and a nice setting to 'relieve' themselves.

I swung my legs of the bed and arched my back as I stretched. My body was cramped and aching, and my shoulder stung from last night.

I got out of bed and scuttled over to the adjacent bathroom. I hadn't taken a shower last night, so I stripped my penguin PJs and hopped into the shower. I decided to try something _new_. After all, I was turning in my old self for a _new_ Stephanie Plum.

Ranger always said that cold showers are really good for a nice wake-up call. I turned the lever up and to the left. The instant the cold blast hit my back, I froze. I did a little chicken dance in hopes that it could create some much-needed energy, but it proved useless. Goose-bumps formed on my arms and legs as I swept the loofah across the planes and surfaces of my body. In less than five minutes, I was out of that hell hole.

That is the last time I try something new.

But I have to give Ranger credit. It did wake me up for good.

I got out of the shower and tiptoed across the tiled floor (_careful not to slip)_ into my bedroom; to the closet to get my white, fluffy robe.

I quickly grabbed it and some panties and slipped them on. _Ahhhhh_, my body hummed. Sometimes the more difficult something is, the more you appreciate the end result. Right? Just like the money I earned. Umm, somewhat of a correlation? Didn't Thoreau say something like that in Walden?

That was my little moral and advice for today.

Barefoot, I padded into the kitchen to find something to eat. The word 'find' is too vague, it was more like scrap up the Chex from the bottom of the box, those that had spilled out of the bag inside the box.

I managed to scrap up some stale cereal, an overripe, brown-spotted banana, and milk. And this was a good day. My mom would definitely NOT approve of my eating habits, among other things.

**§§§**

I would have to pay her a visit, Mary Lou one, and Lula one-- at the bonds office. Anyone else who wanted to speak to me could contact me through them.

I returned to the bathroom, but didn't spend much time. I _attempted_ to brush my hair, to no avail, before putting it in a scraggly bun.

I went to the closet and untied my robe, letting it fall to the ground. I needed to look presentable when speaking to my mom. I didn't want her to make any pre-judgments about my 'leave'. That was exactly what I was going to tell her, that I needed some 'fresh air' and a break from all the bounty hunting and work, and Trenton, _in general_.

I pulled out, from deep within the jungle of dangling pants and vine-like belts, a black-and-white stripped boat-neck long-sleeve and navy pleated skirt. This brought back memories of me, Stephanie Plum, in the early years of high school and college. Simple and chic.

I gave myself an once-over in the large oval mirror that hung on the back of my bedroom door by a thick ribbon. A beautiful gift from Grandma Mazur.

I looked pleasant, enough.

I opened my suitcase, and added in personal hygiene stuff before lugging it over to the kitchen. I leaned it against the counter and let out a deep sigh. I put on some flip-flops, and was out the door for a few visits in the neighborhood.

First, the landlord. I knew him pretty well, so I just told him to keep an eye on my apartment while I was gone, and I promised when I returned, we would share a beer or two.

Next, I piled into my Toyota Corolla CE, a hard-find deal. I had to do some serious bargaining with the slick-haired salesperson—a weasel, inside and out. I said if I went out on a date with him, he would lower the price by $250.

I was desperate, okay?

The car smelled of Tastykakes and coffee. _Yum_. I couldn't forget to buy a dozen before I left.

I drove up to my parents' house and parked. _Here goes_. I got out of the car and walked up the perfectly manicured lawn to the porch. _Ding-dong_.

I heard horse sounds.

I heard a baby's wail.

I heard a man's voice singing nursery rhymes.

Valerie, Kloughn, and the three precious little devils.

Kloughn came to the door and greeted me, "Hey Stephanie. How are you? Are you here for breakfast? That's why we're here. A nice Saturday breakfast with the family."

"Great, thanks Albert. How are you doing?" I didn't need to ask, I could _smell_ it. A pungent, sour smell. The baby had _ejected_ some food bits onto Kloughn's shoulder. I couldn't help but see the orange and green bits. Albert's cherubic face seemed to have a pale-yellow glow. And he looked thinner. Diet? No, at least not intentionally.

"Well, you know. The usual with a baby keeping you up all night."

"Take care of yourself Albert."

"Yeah, thanks."

I stood in the foyer to remove my shoes and Grandma Mazur appeared from the connected kitchen door.

"Hey chica. I'm going out with some of my girlfriends. We're going to do some spring shopping at the mall. Wanna come? We could use your fashion sense. Nice outfit, by the way, hon."

She was wearing a hot pink jumpsuit with matching heels. Scary image. Grandma in heels. Very high heels. At least 4 inches from what I could tell. We were staring at each other at eye level.

"Sorry, I have plans today. Maybe next time."

"Okay Steph. I'll let you know if I catch any hot guys. Maybe I'll spot one of the Latin God's apprentices. They look as delectable as Ranger."

I smiled and hugged Grandma Mazur before going to the kitchen. I tapped on my mom's back as she scrubbed the insides of the oven.

"Stephanie, you scared me."

"Sorry mom. I just came over to tell you that I'm going on a short vacation for awhile."

"What honey? I can't hear you from all the bedlam in this house. Speak up. FRANK, take the girls out for ice cream."

"What? It's nine-thirty in the morning."

I saw my mom give my dad a deathly Burg eye-roll, and he was out the door, with one girl in each arm.

"So honey, what were you telling me?"

"Um, I'm going on a short vacation by myself for a while."

"Oh, that's nice. Give me a call when you get there, okay?"

Wow, that was simple. She didn't give me the ninety-ninth degree or any angry glares. Only one word came up in my mind: preoccupation. She was preoccupied with something and she was waiting for **me** to ask her.

Fine. "Mom, is there something you would like to talk about?"

"Uh, um, Gloria Mancini said that her husband's beer buddy saw you at Pino's last night with Joe and, um, Ranger, and that they got into a fight. He said that it was over you, that you could decide who to _choose_, so they were going to fight it off."

**Exactly why I was leaving! Rumors!**

"Mom, yes, I was at Pino's with Joe and Ranger, but nothing that extreme happened. They weren't fighting over me. They're decent men with great jobs, they would never do such a impetuous thing."

"Did you get hurt?"

"MOM, please, nothing happened."

"Dorothy Pines and her husband were celebrating their 30th anniversary at the restaurant next to Pino's, and she said that she could here you screaming from across the wall, and that you used the four-letter-word and other vulgar terms."

"Well, Mrs. Pines needs to keep to herself. Okay, let me tell it to you straight. Ranger and I went to Pino's for pizza. It was all good until Morelli showed up. He was drunk and acting really cocky and started saying things about me and Ranger. Ranger wasn't too happy and stood up. Before anyone knew, Morelli had thrown a punch at Ranger, but it hit me instead. It wasn't bad thought, just a small jab to the shoulder. I got really angry and told them to knock it off."

My mom thought about my answer carefully before saying, "I'm sorry Steph, you know how I get sometimes. It's just--"

"It's okay, it's all justified."

"So, where do you plan on going?"

"Point Pleasant."

She didn't say anything more, just gave me a pat on the back and a smile.

"Staying for lunch?"

"No, I'm leaving in about an hour or two."

"I'll make you a quick tuna salad sandwich."

"No really, I can grab something on the—", but she had already taken out all the ingredients and was mixing everything in a bowl. I decided to pitch in to the work effort, because I could see it hadn't been taken seriously for the past few days. The living room was littered with magazines—Consumer Report (_I don't know what anyone in my family would be doing with that except burning it for heat_), Food and Living, Home Décor, Running, Time, Newsweek, People, Style-- you name it, we had it. I picked them up and stacked them in a pile next to the fireplace. They could come in use later.

I cleared the cocktail table of popcorn and candy before returning to the kitchen.

"Finished, hon."

"Thanks mom, I really appreciate it, and I promise to give you a call when I get there."

"Be careful."

"I will."

**§§§**

I closed the door behind me after I said my good-byes and a blessing to Val and Albert. There were really a cute couple, minus the unnecessary _oogie-woogums_, and _huggy-bears_. They worked together and made decisions together, and they trusted each other.

While I definitely trusted the men in my life _with_ my life (I knew they would sacrifice for me, as I would for them), they sometimes didn't include me in all their decision-making. They tended to treat me like a delicate porcelain doll, even though I was my all means the contrary. They didn't mean to do it, but it had become instinct. A bad one on my behalf.

I slumped into my car and drove to my next destination: Vincent Plum's Bail Bonds. Good ol' Vinny the furtive little rat. Hiding in his office doing no one knows what. _Animals. Ducks, to be exact_.

I walked into the office and was quickly greeted with a strong, bone-crunching embrace by Lula.

"Hey girl, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Lula-land?"

"Oh, I just wanted to tell you and Connie that I'm going on a short vacation to Point Pleasant for a while."

"That sounds like fun. If only I could join you. Unfortunately, my niece is coming, so I'm her guardian. Her mama got in trouble fo' shop-lifting. Uh-huh, that girl ain't ever gonna learn. No matter how many times I tell 'er, she just doesn't listen."

"You aren't gonna have to bond her out, are you Lula?"

"Hells no."

She lives in New York City, the brawlin' Bronx."

"She doesn't want her daughter to see the process. After all, it is her twelfth's charge, this time for a fake ruby ring. It wasn't even wort' the effort. Anyways, I want you to enjoy your time there. Don't bring nothin' but a bathing suit, sunscreen, and a towel. Maybe I'll even come visit ya if you're still there."

"I'd love that, Lula."

"Me too," chipped in Connie.

"Get back to work ladies! The folders ain't gonna file themselves," Vinnie shouted from the back room.

We all gave an eye-roll.

"How can he hear us when he's fiddlin' with he-self. That sick, nasty little man. Eh, doesn't Batman know you're leaving?"

"Nope, and I intend to keep it that way."

"If he asks, don't tell."

"I don't kiss and tell, I won't hear and tell either."

"Thanks Lula."

"Call us, Steph," Connie added.

"I will."

I gave them each a hug before I left. Up next: Mary Lou's house.

I drove down a couple streets and did a couple turns before arriving at a quaint two-story home. It looked like a perfect house—light blue siding, navy blue shutters, four windows on the left, four on the right for perfect symmetry-- for a perfect housewife, perfect children, and the perfect family relationship.

It wasn't until you looked closely and saw the tricycle that was now a crooked bicycle, the Bratz dolls®s with no hair (or no nose… their scary trademark), and wooden trains from the Thomas the Tank engine collection scribbled with crayon, all scattered across the yellowing lawn.

I knocked at the front door softly, afraid that I would wake up the munchkins. Too late, they were already awake. By all means were they adorable kids that had taken the beautiful complementary features of both their parents: Mary Lou and Lenny Stanovic, but it was that sometimes they acted… well, like kids.

One of them answered the door.

"Hey Aunt Stephie."

"Hey, can I talk to your mommy for a second?"

"MOMMY, AUNT STEPHIE'S HEEEEERRRRRRREEEEEEEE!"

My ears shuddered. Reason one why I can't have kids right now, I don't have any patience!

Mary Lou came downstairs with Lenny behind her with their youngest cradled in his arms.

"Hey Stephanie."

"Hey, how are you going?"

"Okay-okay," Mary Lou responded tilting her hand right and left.

"Mary Lou, as my best friend, I must tell you that---"

"You're pregnant? Awwwwwww, that's great Stephanie. Who's the father? Joe? Ranger? Who cares, their both perfect. You have created genetically perfect children! Congratulations!"

"Mary Lou, I am not pregnant. What I was trying to say, is that I'm going to Point Pleasant for some alone-down-time."

"Does it have anything to do with last night?"

_Oh great, she knew too. _

"Yes. I really need to think about what I plan to do with my life."

"I support you 110, Steph. Call me, send me a post card, text-message me, e-mail me. ANYTHING. I'm desperate, and you know that I live vicariously though you."

I grinned gracefully and gave her a big bear bug before leaving the house.

**§§§**

I returned to the apartment and sat down at the kitchen counter. I took out some stationary, and wrote a letter.

_Ranger,_

_This is Steph. By the time you read this letter after slipping into my apartment for the hundredth time, I'll be gone. I won't tell you where, but I'll give you a call as soon as I get there. Don't bother trying to find me, because I don't want to be found. And yes, it's on impulsive._

_I love you, but I can't go on living this type of 'relationship'. You once promised that 'your' kind doesn't come with a ring. _

_That's not what I wanted, but I wanted something more. _

_Be safe,_

_Steph_

Short and succinct. Perfect for the man of mystery.

I left the note on the counter and was out the door before any emotion could hold me back. I got into my car, turned on the ignition, and was off.

Before going on the highway, I stopped at the bakery to get some Boston crèmes. A girl can't live without these! I bought a dozen and was out the door.

I drove down the New Jersey Turnpike toward my destination. I wasn't as happy as I should have felt. I felt like this buoy floating on the ocean, bobbling up-and-down with nowhere to go, nothing to do, no one to be with. A useless existence.

As I drove, I thought about what I was going to do. House? Job? Food?

All the while, I ate three Boston crèmes.

I was going to have to find somewhere to live.

Forty-five minutes later, I was at the shore. I parked my car at the curb, and followed the stairs down to the sandy beach. I stood looking out like a lost sailor's wife. It gave me a sense of freedom. I was lost in reverie.

Nothing specific really, just my life flying by me.

That was before someone hit me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you. I'm so sorry."

Yes, Stephanie the invisible.

The man literally ran into my side. Rammed into me like a Pamplona bull. He made my shoulder sting even more. I recoiled. He unplugged his I-Pod earpiece, removed his sunglasses, and looked me straight in the eyes. He put his hand on my shoulder to stabilize me.

"Are you okay?" he said sincerely.

I stared back into the dark hazel eyes of a handsome man. He wore a calm expression on his face. His features were well-defined and brooding. If he hadn't smiled, I would have taken him some conceited male model.

I was speechless. I leave Trenton so I wouldn't have to speak to men, and here I am.

He chuckled quietly to himself, and I couldn't help but wonder.

"What?"

"I never thought I'd run, literally, into such a beautiful girl during my jog. New around here?"

You'd like to know? _Flattery, oh please_.

"I've heard that line before. I'll be leaving now. Sorry to have been in your way."

As I turned my back and walked toward my car, he called out, "Sorry again. I hope to see you around town."

"Sure," I muttered under my breath.

I was feeling very hungry, I decided that it was time to eat that tasty tuna salad sandwich that my mom had prepared for me.

I crossed the street to a McDonalds and went inside to buy a vanilla milkshake.

I took my chance and walked on the beach again, this time with food in hand. I did a scan and didn't see Mr. Cocky.

Good. I went down the stair once more, removed my flip-flops, and sat down in the sand. I ate silently listening to the ebb and flow of the waves, watching the sea birds dig their beaks into the wet sand foraging for little critters.

I finished my lunch—the hefty sandwich, two fresh oatmeal cookies, and grapes, and headed for my car.

**I still had much to do.**

**§§§**

I drove around the streets and noticed some RENT signs. I got out of my car and retrieved the ad.

Phoosh, 3500 dollars a month for a small seaside chalet, which probably didn't even have hot water.

I continued driving and decided that there was no way I was going to live in a single house without digging a trench in my bank account.

Then, I came upon a charming one story house with a small one-room upstairs with an old sign hanging in the front lawn. It was a beach-shore house, yellow with red shutters. It didn't have any flyers, so I went up to the house to ring the doorbell.

_No answer_.

This house was at the edge of town, so maybe it came _cheaper_. Just maybe. My budget would go up to, at the most, $560 a month. I could at least give it a try. I had a savings account and money saved up. I wasn't much of a big spender, only during the after-holidays sales. With some bargaining, maybe I could get it cheaper. Plus, some loans.

I flipped open my cell-phone and dialed the realtor's number.

"Hello, this is Shelley Blackwell with Point Pleasant Real Estate, how may I help you?"

"Hi, this is Stephanie Plum, I just came upon the house on Ocean Drive, umm, 107. I was wondering what the rental price was."

"Oh great, that house has been on the market for quite a while, the asking price for it is $125,000."

WOW, that was cheap. Really cheap for anything in Point Pleasant. But not that cheap for me. Bargaining.

"Oh, I was just wondering if it was being rented out."

"That too. The latest owners moved out three summers ago. It's had a few owners ever since, but none wanted to stay. Quite odd, if you ask me, since it's quite a catch, the owners would like to rent it out for $500."

Seriously, this was a great deal. Even if this move was impulsive, it would be a great time to rebound.

"Okay, can I take a look at it today?"

"Sure, my open house is just about the end, I'll be right over. Give me fifteen minutes."

"Thank you."

A smile crept on my face. I was going to live at a seaside property!

I returned to my car and waited.

My phone buzzed. _Arrgh_. I looked at the caller's name on my cell-phone.

Tank.

"Hey Tank."

"Hey Bombshell, how are you doing?"

"Great."

"Ranger just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine." _He could have called himself_.

"If you need anything give me a call, 'kay?"

"Definitely. Thanks Tank."

"No problem."

_Click off_. Wow, I said fewer words than a RangerMan employee. A landmark for me.

Shelley Blackwell arrived soon after. She was a very robust, five-feet tall elderly woman, dressed in a wool skirt suit. Her skin was taut and tanned, a soft sunny glow. Her hair was tied back in a tight bun, with a few wispy tendrils around her neck. She moved her pocket-book under the crook of her arm.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Plum, I'm Shelley Blackwell," she said, shaking my hand.

"Nice to meet you too."

"Will you be checking the house out alone?"

"Yep."

She took out a small key and opened the lock box hanging on the door handle. She opened the door.

A beautiful, refreshing white-toned living room greeted me. Inside, in the foyer, the air seemed very cold. Even when the outside was mild, the inside was very chilly.

But the mood was cheery and bright for Stephanie. The shades of the furniture were light—tans, whites, and sea greens. There were built-in bookshelves. Sky lights. Crown molding. This was no fixer-upper!

It looked like one of the rooms featured in the Home Décor magazine in her parent's living room.

Ms. Blackwell began rambling about the features, but I barely heard anything.

I was moving into a pre-furnished, charming little house. **_It was going to be mine!_**

"This house is 1340 square feet. 2 bedrooms. One bathroom. Hardwood floors. Granite counter-tops. Built-in shelves everywhere. It's one story. A separate one-car garage."

One story? "Excuse me, I thought on the outside, I saw a windowed room on the second floor."

"Oh no, that's just a fixture, it looks like a room, but it isn't."

"Okay."

After we finished the tour of the house, my eyes sparkled. I was smiling from ear-to-ear.

I would live a two bedroom, one bath ocean-front house, with a private beach.

"Yes, I would like to rent it as soon as possible."

Ms. Blackwell smiled and told me specifically what I'd be in for. She told me that I could move in immediately. Everything was going my way, great!

Tomorrow I would go to her office and sign papers and everything.

xxx

_It never came across her mind why this house was so cheap, perfect, and yet un-rented…_

§§§

Peeking in through the kitchen window, someone was crouched between azalea shrubs, watching the interaction closely. A very pretty girl: five-seven or so, curly auburn hair, creamy skin, and a contagious smile. He wore a grim expression before skulking into the nearby trees off the property. _This was going to be fun_.

**I left you all with a little suspense. Hehe. Review please. It will become a full-length novel if you'd like… but you must tell me.**

**For those who may be confused by this quick transition, you shall find out in due time…**

**This chapter was kind of muddled, but everything will be sorted out in future chapters.**

…**C**


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